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An old man who was farming said Little Gen's golden juice looked terrible.
Little Gen was clearly unhappy.
"Old sir, this ladleful may not look like much, but if you spread it properly, it's enough to fertilize one-sixth of an acre. If you still think it isn't enough, I can give you the whole bucket. But I don't like hearing you casually call it terrible. Do you even know what Daoist Path I cultivate?"
The old man smiled. "What else could you be? Judging by your outfit, you are obviously a Gold Cultivator."
Little Gen froze. Gold Cultivators were rare enough, yet this old man had recognized him at a glance.
"Since you know I am a Gold Cultivator, you are still saying my golden juice looks terrible?"
"I meant exactly what I said. Terrible quality. Your golden juice doesn't even have a smell."
As the old man spoke, he reached out and touched the golden juice in the ladle.
Little Gen quickly pulled the ladle back. "Old sir, you can't touch this. It won't be easy to wash off."
The old man had already touched it, so Little Gen searched for powder to help him clean his hand, but the old man waved him off.
"No need to go through all that trouble," the old man said. "Smell it yourself. Does it have any scent?"
Little Gen leaned in and sniffed the old man's hand. Sure enough, there was no smell at all.
Did I take the wrong golden juice? Or does this old man have some other tricks?
There was no way Little Gen had taken the wrong golden juice. At this point, Little Gen felt a little afraid.
The old man put down his hoe and smiled brightly....
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